


Baking Bad

by poplocknsonnet



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Baking, F/F, Fluff, had to break the block somehow, un-beta'd schmoop honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 05:08:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20252686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poplocknsonnet/pseuds/poplocknsonnet
Summary: Kara's secret baking Insta gets a special commission - her mystery fan wants something to confess with. Can Kara get the courage to do the same? And who's really buying her cakes?





	Baking Bad

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! This was a plot bunny that sat half-finished in my google drive for months. I'm not super happy with how it turned out, but I really wanted to kick my writer's block somehow so that I can move on to other projects... Anyway, hope it's saccharine enough :)

Kara’s phone chimed cheerfully, but she ignored it, too focused on spinning sugar before it cooled and hardened to check her messages. Besides, if it were something really important, something DEO related, Alex would call. 

She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, inadvertently leaving a swipe of molten sugar in her hair. She held her breath as she concentrated on finishing her sugar wreath which she hoped would be the finishing touch on the cake in front of her. Three layers of lemon-flavored sponges were neatly layered with lavender buttercream, spread around the sides in the semi-naked style that was so popular recently. She’d piped some simple flowers on top, but was hoping that the delicate sugar-work would be the star of the show.

It wasn’t long before she finished and carefully put the wreath into its place. She snapped a quick picture of the cake which she uploaded to Instagram with the caption, “_Lemon sponge and lavender buttercream might smell like my soap, but trust me, it’s delicious!_”

In order to make sure she wasn’t lying to her followers, she cut a thick slice from the cake and took a quick bite. Satisfied, she clicked “Post” and sat down to eat the rest of the cake.

What Kara appreciated about baking was that unlike so many other things in her life, it was something that Kara, and not Supergirl, had to do. She didn’t have to sleep very much, only a couple of hours per night, but even with all of that extra time in the day, there was a lot of pressure to always be on the move - Snapper had a new assignment for her, or there was a bank robbery in progress, or Alex was on the phone in a panic because Maggie had said something and what did Kara think that it _ meant_?

And so, pressed for time as she was, being - if not Supergirl, at least _ super _ \- had bled into Kara’s everyday routine. It was just common sense, really - why spend an hour cleaning up the house when superspeed could get it done in seconds? Why wait around by the kettle for minutes when a single blast of heat vision would have her tea piping hot in an instant?

And that was what was nice about baking. You couldn’t rush it. Hand-beating eggs with super speed sounded good in theory, but in practice, it either resulted in egg splattered across every possible surface of her apartment, or in peaks so stiff they could be used as bullets. Trying to speed up the actual baking process using heat vision had been similarly disastrous, and using frost breath to try to set an icebox cake had resulted in more ice than cake. All in all, Kara had decided, the only time that superpowers came in handy while baking was when you ran out of sugar half-way through the process and had to fly to the store before your butter melted, and in a world that was always asking her to do more and faster, it was nice to take the time out of her day to do something the human way, the slow way.

Apart from the benefit of allowing her time to just be Kara (and the obvious benefit of having a large supply of baked goods) there was a certain appeal to baking which Kara had been unable to find elsewhere. It required a combination of meticulous precision and artistic flair which nothing else seemed to, required an almost meditative patience and deliberation when the rest of her life required her to live instinctually and in the moment. 

And maybe it was because she just didn’t want to share, but that she baked at all was something that Kara had kept to herself. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to offer Alex a cookie after she’d had a long day at the DEO, or Winn a slice of pie after his favorite Overwatch team lost a match, but there was a kind of intimacy that she’d found with baking that she didn’t quite feel comfortable exposing to others. 

For one thing, sure, _ she _ liked what she made, but what if no one else did? They turned their noses up at potsticker-pizza, which Kara was pretty sure tasted better than anything else that the planet had to offer, so it was clear that there were some tastebud discrepancies there. For another, in a world that was so eager to snatch up any scrap of information about her and plaster it across the news - “Supergirl spotted eating ice cream! Hero’s favorite flavor: mint chip!” - there was a certain pleasure in having something that was just for her. At any rate, whatever her reasons, Kara baked as frequently as her full-time job and her extra-curricular, extra-legal vigilante gig allowed while keeping it a secret from her friends.

Keeping it a secret from her friends, however, did not mean keeping it a secret in general, and unknown to those around her, Kara Danvers owned and operated an Instagram account to which she posted each of her bakes. It had begun as a simple means of recording the things that she made, but she’d quickly gained a small following on the internet.

And so, as she made her way through the mound of confectionery, Kara’s forkless hand scrolled through her notifications. She was popular enough that there was a steady stream of likes and emoji-laden comments.

“_Looks great!_”

“❤🧡💛💚💙💜!!!”

“_Ugh, I feel like I have to go to the gym just for LOOKING at that!” _

_ “Amazing as always, _ ** _@SuperBakes_**_!” _

As she put a particularly large forkful of cake into her mouth, a new notification popped up - she’d received a direct message from **@DontCallMeLutessa**. 

It was simple, only four words: “_Do you do commissions?_”

Kara couldn’t help but smile. The likes and comments which her pictures had accrued were one thing, but to hear that someone wanted to try what she made enough to reach out to her like this filled her with a proud warmth, and before she could think better of it, she was typing out a response.

“_I hadn’t considered it, actually, _ ” she wrote, “ _ How do you know I’m local? _”

“_You posted some pictures at the Farmer’s Market near the library last week._”

Oh, right. It was a good thing that there was nothing tying Supergirl to the Instagram account. It was also probably a good thing that Alex didn’t know about it at all. She was really touchy about things like that.

“_Oops, you caught me.” _ And before she could let her thoughts linger on what Alex would say about any of this, she found herself continuing to type. _ “What would you be looking for? Is this for a special occasion?_”

The reply was nearly instantaneous. “_Yes_,” it read, “_There’s this girl; it might sound silly, but your baking reminds me of her. I’ve been trying to get up the courage to ask her out for some time now, and I thought that she’d be less likely to totally reject me if I showed up with a platter of cookies, or a pie, or something._”

This was a fair point - Kara would be lying if she hadn’t considered bringing a box of macarons or something along in the unlikely event she finally got the courage up to tell Lena how she felt. “_How would I get them to you? _ ” she asked, hardly able to believe that the messages had come this far, “_I don’t mean to sound paranoid, but I really value my privacy on the internet._”

“_T__rust me, I totally understand. There’s a bar at the corner of Church and Travers. Would you be okay leaving them with the bartender there?_”

Kara was familiar with the bar - it was close to L-Corp; she’d actually been once or twice before with Lena. “_That’s fine, _ ” she responded, “_Are you looking for anything in specific? Anything you can tell me about this girl that could help?_”

“_She’s like sunshine, _ ” the reply said, “ _ It’s amazing. She brightens up everything, everyone, around her, without even trying, just by being in the room. Maybe it’s silly, but I was thinking of a lemon curd tart or something? Something bright, sweet?_”

“_Okay,_” Kara said, smiling at the rather sappy message, “_I__ can do that. I’ll let you know when I’ve dropped them off. Should be some time in the next couple of days._”

“_Thank you so much!_”

Curious as to who her customer was, Kara thumbed through to **@DontCallMeLutessa**’s profile to see if she could get any more clues. Unfortunately, her mysterious customer was not a very prolific poster, with less than twenty pictures uploaded over the last three years, and most of those just sunsets over National City.

“Well, maybe they’ll post some cute, coupley pictures once this is all said and done,” Kara thought cheerfully, before pulling out a pencil to jot down her new shopping list.

A couple of Supergirl-related emergencies meant that it was actually three days until Kara felt like she had enough time to try to put together her mystery fan’s tart. 

She texted Alex, letting her know that she would be busy for a few hours and that she was off-duty unless there was a DEO emergency, rolled up her sleeves, and with a burst of super speed, pulled out all of the ingredients that she’d need.

Lemon curd tart was actually one of her favorites - **@DontCallMeLutessa**’s crush had good taste, or else **@DontCallMeLutessa** had seen how often Kara had posted them and wanted to play it safe. Either way, Kara had made the dessert so many times before that putting it together was meditative, almost thoughtless.

There was something very strange about baking for someone else’s crush, Kara decided, as she cut the butter into the flour. It felt incredibly intimate, but she didn’t know either involved party. It made her think of Lena, of whether she’d ever had someone bake for her. She deserved it, Kara decided, as she put the crust into the oven to bake. 

The pastry turned out well. It was nice and crisp - no soggy bottom! - and she’d used a stencil to put a neat sun on the top, bright yellow, silky lemon curd showing through white powdered sugar. She boxed it up and set it in the refrigerator to keep, humming contentedly to herself as she did.

The actual sun had set while Kara baked her own, but baking for her mystery-fan’s crush? Love-interest? had put her into a romantic mood. 

And besides, if **@DontCallMeLutessa** could ask their girl out, then so could she. She was _ Supergirl_. And so, even though it was late, Kara set to work putting together a batch of donuts that she could fry in the morning.

The next day, Kara set off to work with **@DontCallMeLutessa**’s tart under one arm and a box of neatly iced donuts under the other. “It’s no big deal,” she muttered to herself, “I’ll just give them to Lena, tell her how I feel. It’s just words! I talk to Lena all the time. Actually, on second thought, maybe I’ll just give her the donuts. Oh, I don’t know!” She was still arguing with herself by the time she got to the bar that **@DontCallMeLutessa** had mentioned. “I’ve got a, uh, tart for someone from Instagram?” she told the bartender, placing the box onto the bar.

“Oh cool, it actually happened,” the bartender said, mild surprise in her voice. “Here, this is for you, then.”

Kara balked at the wad of cash that was inside the envelope that she was handed. “Are you sure?” she asked, “There must be some mistake.”

The bartender narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t take any, if that’s what you’re implying,” she said.

“I- no! It’s just, this is too much, isn’t it?”

The bartender shrugged. “As long as you’re not smuggling some weird alien drug or something in that tart, it’s none of my business, kid.”

Kara smiled, uncertain how to respond to that. She took her box of donuts and left, using her free hand to tap out a quick message to **@DontCallMeLutessa**, “_Delivered! Good luck!_”

There was a simple, “_Thanks so much :)_” waiting in her inbox by the time she got to CatCo.

Kara tried to work, she really did, but the box of donuts on her desk smelled like, well, donuts, and the sugary scent was a constant reminder that she was going to tell Lena how she felt that day. Probably. Maybe. The text message that she’d received from Lena, “_Lunch today? Wanted to talk to you about something,_” didn’t help her nerves.

She’d responded, “_Of course! <3 I have something to say as well,_” and that was really the icing on the anxiety cake. It was a long few hours before she could escape CatCo and make her way to L-Corp’s headquarters.

“I brought donuts!” Kara chirped as she walked into Lena’s office, hoping that the quiver that she felt in her gut was not evident in her voice.

Lena’s eyes tightened and she sounded so sincere when she said, “I’m so sorry, Kara, but I’m actually incredibly full.”

“Oh,” Kara said, stumbling over the words, feeling the confidence leak out of her like air from an underdone souffle. “I- Okay. You said that you had something that you wanted to talk about?”

“You first, please,” Lena said, waving at the couch with one hand and clutching her stomach with the other.

Kara floundered for a couple of seconds before eventually saying, “I- saw a really cool snail on the way to work today?” She barely held in the cringe that wanted so desperately to accompany the words that she could hardly believe she’d spoken.

What a _ disaster_. For a split second, Kara’s overactive imagination painted a flash of disappointment across Lena’s face, but a second glance saw only amusement. “Is that so?” Lena asked, “Tell me _ all _about it.”

Kara only made it about twenty minutes before embarrassment at her inability to stay cool around Lena, her shame at having chickened out so terribly, and her hunger made her beg off and head back to CatCo. 

She walked back at a rate that was maybe a little too fast to be totally human and only realized when she’d sat back at her desk that the box of donuts was under her arm. She’d intended to leave them for Lena, she had, but she’d been so flustered-

“_How did it go?!_” Kara wrote with one hand, hoping that **@DontCallMeLutessa**’s offering had gone better than hers had. She stuffed an entire donut into her mouth as she stared balefully at her laptop screen as if daring it to do something - anything - to get in her way. The response came quicker than she anticipated, her phone buzzing before she could finish the second pastry.

“_Not well, I’m afraid. The tart was delicious, but I just couldn’t get the words out - I’m so sorry to have wasted your time._”

“_No! _ ” Kara replied, feeling very adamantly that one of their love lives ought to be successful. “ _ You can try again! You paid me way too much for the tart anyway._”

Kara saw **@DontCallMeLutessa** start to type, then stop, then start again, then stop, before the message eventually came: “_Okay_.”

**@DontCallMeLutessa**’s next attempt did not go much better. “_I just start to panic when she’s around,_” she told Kara, “_I need to tell her, I’m going frantic, but I just can’t manage to get the words out._”

“_I know exactly what you mean_,” Kara wrote back, emboldened by anonymity. “_Should I just write “Go Out With Me?” on a cake for you?_”

“_Honestly, that might be what it takes,_” **@DontCallMeLutessa** replied, followed a couple of minutes later by, “_Wait, you were joking, right?_”

Over the next couple of weeks, a strawberry pie, a box of eclairs, and a mini croquembouche later, writing “Go Out With Me?” on a cake and sending it over was looking more and more appealing. If it wouldn’t be incredibly hypocritical of her, Kara would be getting somewhat irritated with **@DontCallMeLutessa** who had still not managed to tell their mystery-girl how they felt.

She’d tried to bring Lena food every time **@DontCallMeLutessa **did, feeling vaguely that her Insta-fan deserved the solidarity, but each time, Lena would apologetically inform her that she’d already eaten. Which was great! Really, Kara couldn’t be upset about that, because really, the lunch dates had started out of concern that Lena wasn’t eating enough, so now that she was-

Well, she could try to justify it, but it still stung. And Kara could tell that she wasn’t hiding her hurt well, if the apology in Lena’s voice, Lena’s eyes, was any indication. She was also so terribly sorry, all soft eyes and, “I’m _ so _ sorry, Kara, but I actually had a bagel during my 11 o’clock meeting,” or “Thanks so much, but I’m stuffed, truly, I took an early lunch.”

It was, to put it mildly, frustrating. She didn’t know quite why feeding Lena felt so important to her, but every time Lena looked at the food in her hands with that sorry expression, Kara felt the tentative confidence leak out of her.

And so the song and dance continued.

"_I feel like I’ve baked too many things for this girl to not know anything about her. Is there at least a name?_ _I just call her mystery-girl in my head,_” she eventually wrote.

"_Terry,_” the response said, but before Kara could reply, another message came through: “_Ms. Terry._”

“_I’ll make this batch extra nice so that she’ll forgive your sense of humor_,” Kara wrote, before setting the oven to pre-heat.

The macarons did turn out well, but **@DontCallMeLutessa **was no more successful because of that.

_ “They were lovely, they were, I just couldn’t bring myself to say it,_” **@DontCallMeLutessa** wrote, “_I’m sorry, I’m just wasting both of our time here. I’m clearly not emotionally equipped to do this._”

Somehow, hearing her own negativity come from **@DontCallMeLutessa**’s - well, not mouth, but fingers? was all the motivation that Kara needed to fire back up again.

“_No!” _ she wrote back, her fingers flying, “_You’re not giving up! You can DO this!_” and yeah, maybe she was writing to herself more than to **@DontCallMeLutessa**, but that wasn’t going to stop her.

_ “Normal place, normal time_,” she wrote, “_These cookies’ll blow her socks off!” _

It was a couple of minutes before she got any response. “_...They’d better not say ‘Go Out With Me’ on them.” _

Kara smiled. “_Nah, that’s the next batch. And yes, that’s a threat!_”

The cookies turned out well, and she knew that this time, this was it. She could _ do _this. Somehow, it felt different than it had the past few times - there was an electricity about the night, and it was harder to get the couple of hours of sleep that she needed.

Having deposited **@DontCallMeLutessa**’s box of cookies, Kara found the waiting particularly egregious. There was nothing exciting at work to distract her and National City chose today, of all days, to be peaceful and serene. She waited and waited until she could wait no longer. She had to see Lena.

It was about half an hour earlier than they normally got together, but Lena _ had _ given her unlimited access to her office, right? Surely Kara could convince her friend to take a little extra time to herself.

She walked to L-Corp as quickly as she could pass off as human where she was waved through by Jess. She knocked twice on Lena’s office door before opening it and stepping through, where she was greeted with a very surprising sight. Lena Luthor, CEO of L-Corp, stood behind her desk, a box of cookies in one hand, the other holding a baked good to her mouth.

“You’re the mystery fan?” Kara asked, looking at a very familiar box of cookies which Lena held in her hands, before putting two and two together, “Wait, who’s Terry?”

“Oh my god,” Lena said, fumbling and nearly dropping the box.

“What happened to all of the other things that I made? The tart, the macarons, the eclairs?”

“I- I ate them,” Lena said, her eyes still wide with shock.

“What?”

“I-”

“You ate them? Lena, that’s so much pastry!”

“I got too nervous to ever ask you,” Lena said all at once, “The box would sit on my desk all morning, and by the time you came over for lunch, I’d-” she motions to the box of cookies helplessly, before shrugging.

“So when I came to your office with a box of donuts,” Kara said slowly, the pieces of the puzzle slowly fitting together.

“I’d just eaten the entire tart,” Lena said, her face bright red. “Wait, did you make those donuts?”

Kara shrugged. “Well, I was so impressed by how brave my mystery fan was in going after their girl that I figured that I could do the same.”

It was a second or two before Kara’s words seemed to sink in for Lena. “Wait,” she said, “Do you mean-” she gestured between Kara and herself.

Kara held up her box of cookies. “Yeah,” she said, a wide, wide grin on her face. “D’you need any more of these?”


End file.
